Collision
by EilonwyCousland QueenofTragedy
Summary: The Way of Thedas verse. Melina Amell & Jalyn Surana both discover they have magic & are forced to leave their homes for Kinloch Hold. Will their budding friendship stay strong or fall apart at the seams amidst the harsh life of growing up in the Circle? Will their chosen lovers bring them peace or hardships? A gritty story of the slow deterioration of friendships & innocence lost
1. The First Taste

**A/N Thanks to Karebear for her wonderful feedback, I couldn't write such a Circle centric story without you! thanks also to the lady who betas my other two on-going stories (Shipwrecked and The Way It Now Is) for help with the title! I stink at naming things, haha. I hope you guys enjoy and I am grateful for any and all feedback, positive or negative! **

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**The First Taste**

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Melina Amell huddled against the cold stone wall, trying desperately to melt into it and disappear. She knew she had been bad. How many times had her mother told her to stay quiet and keep her head down and to most definitely never, ever do magic in front of people? She hadn't _meant_ to do it; the cat had leaped out of nowhere and frightened her. And then a flurry of sparks had shot from her fingertips and it was over. The townsfolk had run from her, fear and mistrust in their eyes. She had tried to apologize, to say she meant no harm, but she was met with hatred everywhere she went. Even at home. Her mother had been so angry that she had slapped Melina across the cheek. She could still feel the sting of her mother's hand.

But then her mother had fallen to her knees, sobbing that she was going to lose another child. And Melina had cried, too. Thick, heaving sobs that had snot running down her face. She had ran to her mother and they had held each other while they cried. They both knew it was only a matter of time before the Templars came. And now they were here.

"Shhh. Don't worry, dear. Just be a good girl, okay? Remember to mind your manners and always behave like a lady of the Amell family," her mother whispered, reaching her hand out to her youngest child. She tried to smile encouragingly at the child, but failed. Her poor baby was only five and she wasn't ready to lose her, not yet. Couldn't they have had just a few more years before this happened?

Melina reached out and placed her tiny hand in her mothers and was quickly pulled into a tight hug. "Don't worry, my little Mel. You'll be safe if you just trust in the Templars," her mother murmured into her messy curls.

Melina let out a sob and clung tighter to her mother. She didn't _want _to go to a Circle. She didn't _want _to be a mage. She wanted to live with her mother and father forever in their estate in Kirkwall. She wanted to have dinner with them every night and visit the Chantry with them and play and laugh with them. She wanted to be normal. But that wasn't to be. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at the tall men in shining silver armor. She curtsied low, just like her mother had taught her. "My name is Melina Amell. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ser Templars," she whispered quietly.

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Jalyn Surana scampered over a pile of boxes, laughing wildly as she heard her cousin, Maroth, call out for her.

"Jaaaaalyn! Where are you hiding? I've been looking for hours!" he whined.

Jalyn covered her mouth with one hand to stifle her giggles. They never found her when they played hide-and-seek. She was known as the best hider in the whole of the Denerim alienage. Secretly, she wished to grow up and become a legendary rogue but elves weren't allowed to use weapons. Jalyn narrowed her eyes as she thought about the wretched shem living outside the alienage walls; they were free to do as they please. No one was free in the alienage, especially the women. She shuddered as she remembered how Maroth's mama was taken and killed by the shem.

"HA! I found you!" Jalyn jumped a foot in the air at the sudden sound of her cousin sneaking up behind her. She furrowed her brow and glared at him, angry at having been caught. He grinned and Jalyn could see his tongue behind the gap where his two front teeth were missing. He reached out and slapped her on the shoulder. "Tag! You're it!" he shouted and ran off.

Jalyn grinned in response and darted off after her older cousin. He was two years older than she, at nine-years-old, but she was smaller and moved quicker. They raced about the alienage, laughing and shouting, until Jalyn ran smack into a pair of hard, sturdy legs. She gasped and looked up to to see a shem in fine, noble clothing. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "What are you doing here? Only us elves belong here," she stated matter-of-factly.

The shem sneered down at her, disgust plain of his fat, pudgy face. "Get out my way, pig," he snarled as he pushed past her. "You're too young for what I want."

Jalyn shrugged, oblivious to what his words meant, and looked around for Maroth. He was nowhere in sight and she sighed heavily. Now she'd have to look for him, instead. Maker's ass.

A scream suddenly pierced the air and Jalyn spun around to see the shem dragging off Dilwyn, an elf who had been a close friend of Maroth's mama, Adaia. She could see Gethon begging the man not to take his wife and Dilwyn was sobbing and trying to escape. The shem tightened his fist and swung, knocking Gethon to the ground and causing Dilwyn to scream in fright.

Jalyn clenched her fists and marched over to where they were. She didn't know what she was going to do but all she could feel was her own anger, hot and ready under the surface. "Leave them alone, shem!" she yelled when she was close enough.

The shem looked at her at laughed, a cruel and mocking sound to her ears. She raised her arm and pointed at him and a short burst a lightening flew from her fingertips and struck him in the groin. He screeched in pain as the elves gasped in shock. Jalyn looked down at her own hand in surprise, as if it was a foreign limb that had just suddenly sprouted from her wrist. As she watched the pudgy shem run off towards the gates, she knew the Templars would be here soon. So she quietly walked to the gates and sat down to wait for them. It was no use fighting Templars and she didn't want to cause any more trouble for her people. Besides, going to the Circle just meant trading one prison for another.


	2. Periphery

**Periphery**

Melina looked around the common room with wide eyes, trying to take in everything at once. She had cried the whole way to Ferelden but now that she was here, she felt herself being overwhelmed by the strange new sights surrounding her. Everywhere she looked mages were bustling about in long robes, heads down, and a look of guarded fear in their eyes. Templars stood at every entry way, watching over everything with a look that frightened her. She was used to people being kind and gentle to her, always stopping to say hello and pat her on the head. Now, the Templars glared and the mages look on her with pity.

So she stood, back pressed tightly against the wall, hands clasped together, and prayed to the Maker no one would notice her. She hunched in her shoulders, struggling to remain unseen. She felt her stomach rumble and wondered what her mother would be cooking for dinner. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered her mother making veal with spiced sweet potatoes and candied carrots on her birthday a few months ago. She hoped the food in the Circle would be as good as home.

A loud noise sounded from outside the common room and Melina craned her neck to see what the commotion was about. It wasn't long before she found out. The Templars carried in a girl, elven by the looks of her ears, who was kicking and screaming like a banshee. Her loud screeches pierced Melina's ears and sent a shiver of fear down her spine. Melina could scarcely tell what was being said but it sounded as if the girl was begging not to be made Tranquil, whatever that meant.

She continued to watch as an elderly mage walked over, clucking her tongue as she went, and quietly spoke with the Templars. The men argued for a moment before roughly shoving the screaming child away.

"My name is Wynne, child, and I am a Senior Enchanter here at Kinloch Hold. Can you tell me your name?" the elder mage asked, her voice warm and patient.

The elven girl brushed her long red hair out of her eyes and glared at Wynne. "My name's Jalyn Surana, shem. I didn't do anything wrong! They can't make me tranquil, it was an accident!" she replied, defiantly.

Wynne raised one eyebrow at the girl before smiling gently. "Well then, Jalyn Surana, welcome to Kinloch Hold. We don't typically make children into Tranquil, so you have nothing to fear."

Jalyn tilted her head cautiously to the side. "But I lightning bolted a human man's groin and I'm an elf," she replied, tone hesitant.

Melina watched as Wynne tried to look stern and not laugh. "I'm sure you did, child, but as you yourself said: it was an accident. Before I came here, I accidentally lit a boy's hair on fire. Luckily, no harm was done but still." Wynne smiled and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "That is why the Circles were created. They're a safe place for us to learn to harness our magic in positive ways and to learn control."

Jalyn snorted loudly and rolled her eyes. "Looks like a pretty prison to me. Nicer than the alienage but still a prison."

Wynne smiled, but this time it was a smile laced with sadness. "Yes, sometimes it does feel that way but it is necessary. This is both for our own protection as well as the safety of all of Thedas."

The young girl crossed her arms over her chest and Melina found herself curious to hear what she would say in response. "For you shems, maybe. My people knew magic long before you and we never needed any blasted Circles."

Before Wynne could respond two other kids came racing through the common room and knocked the elf to the ground. "Filthy shem, watch where you're going!" Jalyn cried out, rubbing her knee.

One of the boys stopped, a mousy looking kid with watery gray eyes and scraggly brown hair, and looked at Jalyn. He blushed crimson and quickly looked away. "'Sorry," he mumbled before darting off again, chasing after the older blonde boy he had been chasing.

Wynne cleared her throat, causing both Melina and Jalyn to glance at her. "You might do well here not to call anyone 'shem'. I know your people are treated unfairly but in the Circle humans and elves are equal."

Jalyn scoffed loudly. "You mean we're all prisoners."

Wynne just shook her head and sighed before turning around and searching the room. Her eyes roamed for a moment before landing on Melina, tucked away in the corner. Wynne smiled and beckoned the young girl over. Melina gulped and hesitantly took a few steps in Wynne's direction. The Senior Enchanter smiled encouragingly and Melina felt confident enough to walk all the way over to her. When she reached the two she curtsied low in their direction. "My name is Melina Amell and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she mumbled quietly, eyes locked firmly on the floor.

Jalyn broke into a fit of giggles that caused Melina to look at her in surprise. Jalyn clutched her sides and struggled to breath in between her giggles. "I-I'm sorry," she said as she continued to laugh. "It's just, no shems ever curtsied to me before!" she finished, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

Melina blushed, her pale skin turning crimson. Wynne smiled as Jalyn picked herself off the floor and dusted off her clothes. "Good. You two seem to be getting along well. You'll both become my apprentices starting this evening."

Jalyn groaned. "Ugh. Why can't I have someone younger learn me magic?"

Wynne pretended to look offended. "Why, you mean you don't wish to taught magic by an old woman like myself? Why, in my day you youngsters respected your elders!" she exclaimed before clutching her back in pain. "Oh, my aching, ancient bones! Whatever shall I do- I must be close to death now! Oh Maker, deliver me from my sins and bring me to your side!" she cried dramatically.

Melina covered her mouth and giggled wildly while Jalyn rolled her eyes and sighed. "All right, all right. Maybe I won't mind you learning me some spells."

Wynne grinned, her eyes crinkling in merriment. "Good. Because I was going to, anyway," she replied and winked at Melina, who continued to giggle. "Lessons begin at six o'clock sharp and dinner is in half an hour. Don't be late," she warned.


	3. Bridge Over Troubled Water

I want to thank all my viewers and reviewers, I hope you continue to enjoy Collision! Also thanks to Karebear, who beta's this story for me and makes sure my characters stay the right age. ;)

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Bridge Over Troubled Water

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Jalyn sighed and huddled deeper into the large squishy armchair in the common room. She stared into the fire, watching the flames make shapes and listening to it crackle and pop. She wanted to go home. She wanted to run the streets of the alienage with Maroth, playing Kali the Rogue Bandit. It was a story she had made up when she still had dreams of being the sneaky rogue who brought honour and wealth back to her people. Now, she was nothing but another mage locked in a pretty prison.

Glancing around at the empty room she caught a glance of someone hiding in the corner, head down. Jalyn could tell by the long, white-blonde curls that it was the shem, Melina Amell. The way her shoulders heaved told her the girl was sobbing. Before she could think about it, Jalyn stood up and walked over to her. Kneeling down, she placed a firm hand on the girl's shoulder. Melina looked up, tears and snot streaming down her face.

Jalyn grimaced, but pressed on. "Why are you crying, girl?" she asked.

Melina sniffed, rubbing her arm across her nose. "I miss my mommy," she whispered.

Jalyn's expression softened, she understood that feeling all too well. "I miss mine, too," she replied simply.

"She lives in an alienage, right?" Melina asked, hesitantly.

Furrowing her brow, Jalyn shuffled until she was sitting next to Melina, back pressed tightly against the wall. "No. She... died, when I was little," she answered.

Melina's eyes widened and she snuggled in closer to the elven girl. "So, she's with the Maker, now."

Jalyn turned and brushed her cinnamon-coloured tresses out of her face. "You- you think the elves are brought to the Maker's side?"

The younger girl nodded her head and looked at Jalyn with solemn eyes. "Mommy said we were all equal, in the sight of the Maker."

"Even the Dalish?" Jalyn asked, truly curious.

Melina titled her head, confused. "What's a Dalish?" she asked.

Jalyn chuckled. "The Dalish are the elves who still wander Thedas- free from human laws and hate."

"Tell me about them?" Melina asked and leaned her head on Jalyn's shoulder.

Jalyn shuffled awkwardly, but let the girl stay where she was. "My mama, she was a Dalish. She came to Denerim to trade on behalf of her clan. When she met my papa, she fell in love and decided to stay with him," Jalyn began, unsure as to why she was talking so much with this tiny shem. "But papa got sick, working on the docks. The shem wouldn't heal him so he died, a day after I was born. Mama was so sad. I'd catch her crying, when she thought I wasn't looking," she continued, her voice tinged with a ring of melancholy. "But other times, she'd hold me in her lap and tell me of the halla and the caravans and the strange tattoos on her face. Then, one day she went to the market and never came back." Jalyn remembered the way the elders would whisper, saying her mama had left her to rejoin her clan. But Jalyn refused to believe that. She knew in her heart that her mama had died, somehow, and that's why she wouldn't return to her.

Melina sat up and grabbed Jalyn's hands. "You must be lonely. I'm lonely, too. Let's be friends, forever. Then, we'll never be lonely again," she whispered softly, hope shining like bright stars in her eyes.

Jalyn couldn't believe her ears. A shem wanted to be friends with her? No, that wasn't right. Melina wasn't a shem, she was a human who was just as scared and alone as she was. "Yes, let's always be friends, no matter what," she whispered in return.

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The next morning, Melina woke up early from a horrible dream. She huddled under the blanket for a few moments, shaking. She could hear herself whimpering and felt tears run down her cheeks. She shut her eyes against the dark and held herself tight. Suddenly, she felt someone crawl into bed with her and heard a voice whisper her name. "Jalyn?" Melina whispered back.

Melina felt the girl snuggle in close under the blankets. "I heard you crying," Jalyn mumbled. "What's wrong?"

Melina sniffed, loudly, causing Jalyn to sigh in response. "I had a nightmare. About the boy with the strange marks on his back." On the day of their first lesson, Melina had accidentally caught a Templar whipping a small boy with mud coloured hair. She didn't understand what it meant, exactly, but the boy had been crying and angry lines covered his back. She had felt his emotions of fear, though, and it made her scared, too. Melina had always been able to pick up on particularly strong emotions, even if she couldn't understand what they meant yet.

"I'm going to sing a song my mama used to sing when she was sad. It's in Dalish and I don't speak it so good, but it's a pretty song," Jalyn whispered. Jalyn cleared her throat and began, singing in a soft hushed voice so as not to wake anyone else. "Melava inan enansal ir su araval tu elvaral u na emma abelas" And though she stumbled over some of the words, her voice was gentle and it slowly began to lull Melina back to sleep. "In elgar sa vir mana in tu setheneran din emma na," she sang, her voice low and even. For a moment, they both pictured what they could remember of their mothers. An elf with long hair and strange markings on her face. A woman with sunshine yellow hair and a laughing smile. They both soon fell asleep, curled up together like two lost strays hiding from the rain.

The next morning they sat side-by-side at the community breakfast table. They smiled and laughed, even though they both felt a little scared. And they held the weight of their promise in their hearts, believing it to be the truest, strongest thing in the world. They couldn't imagine that anything could ever break their friendship apart.


	4. Control

A/N: On my HC for mage spells- A dark blue aura is water/ice spells, a red aura is fire, a medium brown aura is earth, and wind type spells are a mustard yellow aura. Healing spells are based on each individual mage. Anders' are pear green and Wynne's are pastel yellow.

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Control

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_**Nine Years Later... **_

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Melina sat in the library, an open book in front of her. It was a book on what Enchanter Wynne called "empathic sensitivity." They had discovered, about a year ago, that Melina was more attuned to the emotions of those around her. It explained why she was easily over-whelmed by new sights and sounds, and why it had taken her so long to adjust to the circle. Now, she was taking extra lessons to help learn how to control her reactions. The most dangerous thing for a mage was to feel too much at once. Emotions had to be contained or the demons had a higher chance of catching hold of you. They fed especially well on fear.

Sighing idly, Melina glanced up and caught a glimpse of Templar Recruit Cullen. She hid a smile behind her hand. His dark golden hair shone in the torchlight, sometimes appearing a soft, orangey-red colour. He was much younger than the other recruits, only seventeen. He had a hesitant, but kind smile and she like the way his jaw looked. Hastily, she looked away. She knew it was folly to stare so longingly at a Templar. They were here to protect them, not fall in love with them.

She closed her eyes and counted to twenty. It was a new method Wynne was teaching her. With each number she was to focus her willpower to her center. So far, it had been going well. She could usually get to seventeen before losing concentration.

Jalyn tip-toed over, slowly making her way towards her friend. Without making a sound, she waited for Melina to be finished with her spell. Or whatever it was she was learning, now. She twirled a piece of her cinnamon-coloured hair between her fingers and waited, bored. Her eyes danced around the room, pausing only to glance at the title of a book or spider dangling from it's web.

Eventually, her eyes landed back on Melina's face, round and soft and innocent. Her brow was furrowed and her breathing slow and even. Her eyelids twitched slightly under the strain of squeezing them so tightly together. Jalyn smiled, impressed to see her friend trying so hard.

Suddenly, Melina's eyes popped open and her heavy sigh punctured the air. Her eyes widened as she saw Jalyn sitting there, quietly watching her. "Jalyn! I didn't hear you approach!"

Jalyn's lips formed a smirk, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "Of course not," she drawled. "You were too busy thinking of that Templar Recruit you keep staring at," she teased.

Melina blushed beat red and Jalyn's eyes opened wider in shock. "Wait, I was joking, Mels," she began. "You can't really be, I mean- he's a Templar!" she whispered furiously.

Melina covered her face, both embarrassment at her own infatuation with Cullen and Jalyn's anger causing her to panic. Jalyn noticed and sighed. Placing a hand firmly on Melina's shoulder, she tried to calm the girl. She never knew what to say in these moments but sometimes her friend just needed a moment to collect herself. Jalyn couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have other people's emotions running through her. As a mage-born, sometimes it was hard enough to just keep the emotions in your own heart at an even level. Jalyn shivered as her thoughts drifted to Jowan. She remembered the stolen moments in hidden corners; his hands roaming across her skin and his kisses pressing hot against her lips.

She wondered if she should share this news with Melina. She was so tender that Jalyn didn't want to overburden her with worry. And Mels would worry, she knew those moments were forbidden to mages. They both knew the price was high, a year in solitary confinement. It was a harsh punishment but it didn't stop those few mages who dared to try.

Jalyn shook her head, forcing herself from her string of thoughts. She blinked a few times at Mels, who was already staring back at the book with a look of intense concentration. Jalyn poked her in the side of the head.

Melina batted the girl's hand away. "Yes?" she replied, absently.

"Lunchtime," she called out in a sing-song voice.

Melina sighed and opened her large cloth bag she carried around. She slipped the book in and stood, pressing her dress down. Jalyn rolled her eyes and led the way to the mess hall. Lunch wasn't much in the way of food, mostly over-cooked vegetables covered in brown, tasteless gravy. Sometimes their was meat in the way of ground up beans and beef. It was better than the vegetables. Still, there was always plenty of it and it filled you up well enough.

They ate quietly, both reading over their schoolbooks as they ate. Both ever aware of the Templars, hovering so close in their bright, shiny metal armor. Their eyes poking out from behind their helms, shining little globes of light in an otherwise dark space. It was eeriest when viewed from a slight distance, when the shadowy shapes of a face couldn't be made out. Like now.

They kept their heads bent low and their books close at hand. Better to be studying than talking. Talking, even in whispers, brought their attention. They weren't to make friends or lasting bonds. They were, quite simply put, barely allowed to exist. They were to eat and they were to study. They were allowed to choose their own specializations, with the exception of the sensitive ones. So far, that only applied to Melina and one other child, a boy named Anders. Anders was quite a few years older than Melina and had already chosen to dedicate his talents to healing. Melina was thinking of healing as well. They both were required to choose from a short list of options.

Today she was going to sit in on a lesson Anders was having with Wynne on healing magic. She was excited and nervous at the same time. What if she wasn't talented enough to heal properly? She took a deep breath and calmed herself, focusing her attention back to her book on the practical application of her meditations.

She glanced up and noticed the recruit she had been staring at earlier. He was walking in beside Knight Commander Greagoir. He looked over and she cast her eyes down at her food, blushing instantly. She sent a silent prayer that her hair hid her face and quickly stood up, keeping her head bent forward. She calmly walked towards to exit, suddenly all the more eager for her lessons to begin. Hopefully, she could divert her attention to healing and away from these sinful thoughts that kept running through her treacherous mind. She repeated the words of the Chant of Light over and over in her mind, letting the rhythm of the words calm her frayed nerves.

_Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they, who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond. _

And slowly, in this quiet way, she made herself to the small corner of the common room that was sectioned off for Anders' lesson. Melina tip-toed through the door and watched the older blonde-haired boy practice his meditations. A soft green light was emitting from his body, a green so pure it looked like the colour of pears. Melina remembered from her book that each mage had their own personal aura when they healed or tapped into their healing magic. It was a reflection of their soul, their very essence. It was a skill only a sensitive could preform, or a blood mage. But blood magic was forbidden so healers were a rare thing indeed.

The lesson today was a short one; Anders' hadn't been feeling well lately and was to spend some time alone in his room, Wynne explained. Melina glanced up and nodded. She curtsied to Anders before leaving. She walked quickly, head down, but her attention wasn't in where she was going. She walked by reflex, her instincts guiding her down each hall. Her thoughts were instead focused on the rumors she had heard about Jalyn. The other apprentices whispered when they thought she wasn't listening; they said Jalyn was breaking the rules. She didn't think for a moment it could be anything as horrible as blood magic but she worried about her friend all the same.

Suddenly, she bumped in a very hard, and very solid, chest. She looked up and saw the templar recruit, Cullen, standing in front of her. His cheeks were bright red and he was mumbling an apology as he backed away quickly. Melina was sure her own cheeks probably matched his and ducked her head, hiding effectively behind her curls. She curtsied low and waited from him to walk away, led by a frowning Knight Commander. Breathing heavily she quickly dashed to her dorm room, hoping by the grace of Andraste that no one would guess her true feelings.


	5. Criminal

Warning: smut ahead. Also, mentions of rape and violence. This is a Circle story, after all.

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**Criminal**

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Jalyn moaned softly as Jowan ran his fingers across her breasts. The stone pressed against her back, cold and unforgiving. She arched up as his fingers dipped into her center, lightly caressing her in slow, sure strokes. She bit her lip to keep from making any noise, if the Templars caught them there would be trouble. The danger upped the sensations, causing her to wither beneath Jowan's hands, begging him without words to enter her and bring them both to their climax.

As he slowly pressed himself into her, she bucked her hips for him to move quicker. Her smiled down at her, soft and slightly hesitant, and his smile reminded her of Melina. She reached up and pulled him down for a kiss and as his tongue was exploring her mouth she flipped him over so she was on top.

Grinning down mischievously, she began to rock her hips, sliding up and down his shaft with quick, hard motions. This time it was Jowan who had to bite his lip to keep the sound in. She trailed her fingernails through the coarse hair that covered his chest and titled her head back. Soon, she felt the familiar pressure start to grow, steadily climbing, becoming more and more intense, until she felt like she was bursting with the sensation. Spots covered her vision for a moment and she collapsed in Jowan's arms.

Before he had a chance to wrap his arms around her she was up and putting her robes back on.

Jowan looked up at her, unhappiness plain on his face. "I wanted to hold you for a moment before you left," he pouted.

Jalyn smirked as she slid on her undergarments. "You know as well as I do what happens if we're caught. We don't have time to linger."

Jowan groaned and stood, reaching for his own robes. "I hate that. I hate that I can't even hold the woman I love without fear of being turned Tranquil!"

Jalyn grinned. "Love? Is that what this is? Here I thought you just wanted my body," she teased lightly.

Jowan scoffed and pulled her into a hug. "Of course I love you. I wouldn't risk a year in solitary for just any girl," he whispered against her hair.

Jalyn felt her breath catch in her throat at Jowan's words. She pushed him away, scared of the rush of emotions she felt. _I can't fall in love, I can't,_ she thought wildly.

"We're mages Jowan. Love isn't for people like us," she said, hoping her voice didn't betray her.

Jowan ran his hand through his scraggly brown hair. "Is this really what you wanted for your future, Jalyn? A prison?" was all he asked before quietly walking away.

Jalyn could feel her heart pounding beneath her chest as she made her way back to the room she shared with the other female apprentices. Flashes of her childhood before Kinloch Hold made their way across her mind. Running with Maroth, Shianni, and Soris. Listening to the older elves telling wild stories. The laughter and feeling of community, of home. She also remembered the ache of an empty belly and the stench of stale alcohol and the trash that lined the alleyways. At least in the Circle, she never went hungry. In the circle, she wasn't just a dirty elf. Not that there was much difference between a mage and an elf, not really.

She flinched as she remembered listening to Lana cry as she tried desperately to cover the bruises on her thighs from view. But when they all had to share the same wash basin, it was hard to hide that sort of thing. But Jalyn could see that the bruises on her soul were worse than the ones on her body. It was in the hollow look in her eyes, the blank-eyed stare she would make when she thought no one was watching.

Jalyn rubbed her arms fiercely, trying not to imagine how it must feel. It was rumored that being taken by the Templars was part of the Harrowing, and Jalyn prayed to the Maker it wasn't true. It couldn't be true, not even the Templars were that sadistic, were they?

Suddenly, her thoughts turned to Melina. Jalyn couldn't believe that the silly girl had a crush on a Templar. They had both seen how horrible they were. They had watched as so many mage apprentices had been whipped, beaten, or left in solitary without food or water for weeks. Sometimes, an apprentice would go missing. Most of the time they came back, as Tranquil, making enchantments and minding the stockroom. But sometimes, they were just gone. No one would say where they went and it was forbidden to ask about them but still, the other mages would whisper in hidden corners. Frightening whispers of torture and murder, of mages being left in the dungeons to slowly starve to death- forgotten and alone.

Jalyn hated the Templars, all mages did. She couldn't understand how Melina could like one of them, no matter how cute he may be. The Templars were their enemy, period, no exception. So it was unthinkable to fall in love with one. Besides, it was dangerous. If they found out, who knew what they might do with that information. Jalyn was certain that they would use it against her friend, find some way to hurt her. She had to protect Melina. Melina was such a fragile soul that if Jalyn didn't find a way to keep her from falling in love with this Templar...

Jalyn sighed, worried her friend would get her heart broken or worse. It was dangerous enough to love a fellow mage. Falling in love with a Templar surely meant doom awaited her dearest friend.

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_I want to thank everyone who reviews and reads this story from the bottom of my heart! This story was not originally planned to even be written but its been a labor of love so far writing it! I enjoy learning more about Melina and Jalyn as I write them and I hope everyone else does, too! So far Jalyn seems to be the running favorite so hopefully the next chapter or two will win Melina some points. She has a strong side, deep (deep) down. ;)_


	6. It's Only a Paper Moon

A/N: First, I need to thank Dreamlover1102 for roleplaying the Cullen scene with me. She is one of the biggest Cullen fans I know and my Melina/Cullen romance is dedicated to her. I also need to thank Karebear for not only roleplaying the Greagoir bits with me but helping me to understand him better and for beta-reading all my chapters. You are beyond amazing and I owe all my ideas on circle life to you and Rhyanon. Also thanks to Morninglight for the poetic inspiration! Thanks to Awinters25 Team Angst, Graymalkyn, and Eve Hawke for their lovely reviews and to everyone who reads this story! It is such a discovery for me with each chapter and the person I thought Jalyn was when I wrote How Did It Go So Wrong is so different from who she really is that I now need to revise that short. Please, continue to tell me what you think of this story!

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It's Only a Paper Moon

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The moon was high in the darkly coloured sky, surrounded by brightly lit stars. The stars glimmered and gleamed, looking like hope in an endless sea of darkness. The water shimmered, reflecting the moon back at itself, slightly distorted but beautiful. The tower stood in the center, tall and ominous in the dark of night. The moon wove a web filled with silence and dreams, a dimly lit lie. The water in Lake Calenhad was like black-watered silk, so lovely in it's simplicity that one would almost forget the water seemed to come from the tears of the trapped.

Melina smiled softly as she looked down at the picture she had been drawing, the only view she had from her window. She had been having trouble controlling her emotions and, though she was meant to be studying from her books, had decided to draw to calm her mind and organize her thoughts. While she began to shade in the tower, her mind drifted to a lazy daydream of what her life would have been like, outside of Kinloch Hold. She'd have been an artist, painting murals for the Chantry and sketches for bored noblewomen.

Jalyn snuck up behind her friend, watching as she concentrated on her art. Sensing Jalyn's presence, Melina glanced up and smiled. "Jalyn!" she whispered, happy to see her friend.

Jalyn returned the smile as she took her seat and then frowned. "Melina, I need to talk to you," she began, unsure how to start.

Nearby, Cullen had been watching Melina as she drew, secretly admiring the way she looked as she concentrated so intently. Greagoir had walked in moments before, looking for Anders, and had noticed his youngest recruit watching the mageling. The expression on Cullen's face worried Greagoir, he knew better than anyone the dangers of a Templar falling in love with a mage. Greagoir pushed down the old hurt and pain, it had been many years and he was too old to spend the rest of his days mooning over lost love. Instead, he concentrated on the two mages; Wynne's special apprentice and the elven girl. He remembered Surana; he remembered all the mages under his care. She had been feisty when they had first brought her to the Tower and had thrown a few tantrums when she was younger. There hadn't been anything in years, but Greagoir had hear rumors of her dalliances with the suspected blood-mage.

Jalyn took a deep breath before continuing. "You can't like Cullen, Mels!" she blurted out in a rush, words tumbling together. Greagoir's ears perked up at the name 'Cullen' and he frowned. He marched over to the pair, determined to stop this conversation in its tracks. When he reached their table he saw a paper of some sort, partially covered by Amell's arms. He reached down and grabbed it before anyone knew he was there and stared at it a moment, mildly curious.

"Hey! That belongs to Melina!" Jalyn exclaimed, glaring up at the Knight-commander.

He let go of it and left it on the table, focusing on Jalyn now. "Neither of you are as good at keeping secrets as you think you are." He sounded very calm. He was very calm. Just stating facts, nothing more.

Jalyn scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about, Shem!" she sneered, causing Melina to gasp in shock and cover her face with her hands.

"I know that you are sneaking around exploring your sexuality in storage rooms and thinking you're clever, and I do not honestly care about that. You're children, all of you. It doesn't matter to me who you have sex with. What does matter to me is forbidden magic and I am telling you to be _very careful _about who you choose to diddle with in those closets," he stated calmly. He knew teenagers, especially the ones who felt trapped rather than protected by the circle, needed an outlet for their sexual frustrations. He allowed it because to try to stop it would be futile. He didn't wish to deny them love, he simply believed the Chantry's belief that continuing a magical bloodline was dangerous and sinful. But he understood just how tempting that sin could be.

Jalyn stood up, standing toe-to-toe with Greagoir. "You're a liar! All you Templar shems care about is keeping the mages in check! You shem have always feared magic. You won't even let us love freely!" Her emotions were raw and frazzled, she had believed no one knew about her secret meetings with Jowan. She feared that they would take him away from her and her heart twisted painfully at the thought. Try as she might to deny it, she loved him.

"You're right," he replied softly. The louder the mage shouted, the quieter he became. "All I care about is keeping mages in check. I will do anything I have to, to accomplish that goal. I know you don't believe me, because you're a seventeen-year-old child running her mouth off, and you think the rules don't apply to you, because everyone your age always thinks that. You think you're invincible; you're the one person who won't be in danger up against horrifically dangerous things. You're wrong. And I swear by the Maker, I don't want to have to force you to recognize it, but I will. Don't make me." He never enjoyed having to punish a mage, though he knew some did, and far too much. He saw mages as people, full of the same emotions and thoughts as anyone else, but he also knew how dangerous they could be and he would not- no, could not- allow for that danger to be let loose upon Thedas.

"I'm not afraid of you, Templar! You can't scare me!" Jalyn growled in return, emotions quickly spiraling out of control. She was terrified but didn't want to show it, and over-compensated with anger. She knew she was digging herself a hole to be buried in but couldn't stop the words as the tumbled from her mouth. She wanted to stop but couldn't, years and pain and anger at both the Templars and shem bubbling to the surface, raw emotions that cut deeper than a knife.

Melina started to say a prayer in her head, hoping beyond hope this would not end badly. _Please, Maker, please do not let Jalyn get hurt! Please_, she begged silently. Her body shook with fear and she hated herself in that moment. She hated how weak she was, sitting there shaking when she knew Jalyn needed her. She hated the fear that was swallowing her whole and stopping her from defending her friend. Jalyn had only gotten in trouble because of her and she was powerless to save her. She was a weak, silly girl and shame washed over her as she watch the argument unfold.

"I'm not trying to scare you, girl, I'm trying to be honest with you. Your boyfriend is a blood mage. That's a death sentence. If you aid him, your life is forfeit," Greagoir responded, voice tired. He really didn't want to kill a couple of teenage children. His duty left no room for compromise but it always disturbed him when he had to end life before it had a chance to truly begin. If they would only listen, if they would only understand the circle was there to _protect_ them, not imprison them. Mages needed to be kept safe from the influence of demons and the the rest of the world needed to be kept safe from the possiblity of abominations roaming rampent.

The blood drained from Jalyn's face. She refused to believe Jowan would ever be capable of blood-magic, but if the Templars believed it than Jowan was surely in danger. "LIAR! Don't talk about him!" Jalyn screeched, losing control of her emotions. Energy shot out of her being by accident, touching those nearest her whether they be mage or Templar. Her whole body trembled and she could hear dark laughter in the far recesses of her mental perception.

Greagoir immediately Smited her. Jalyn reeled back, stunned, and smacked against the nearest wall. She fell to her knees, body filled with crippling pain. Her lungs were on fire and she couldn't breath. Her chest hurt, her stomach hurt, shit, her whole body screamed in pain. Greagoir was there, looming over her, glaring. His whole body was tense, waiting for the next thing to go wrong. His men had gathered around, waiting for orders. Some were wary, others eager.

Jalyn struggled to breathe, clutching her chest in pain. When she regained her breath she glared up at Greagoir, still on her knees.

She spit at his feet. "That's what I think of you, shem," she said defiantly. But the words seemed hollow as she continued to huff, breathing still shallow.

One Templar grinned, finding his excuse. He kicked her in the stomach, leaving her curled around herself with tears streaming down her face.

"Filthy knife-ear," the templar said contemptuously, spitting on the girl as she lay there, pain shooting through her body. She didn't even care that he had called her knife-ear, she's used to that. It's the physical pain that's overwhelming and she can't even manage to think, it's that severe. The Smite was still sending pulses through her and the Templar's heavy plated boot had landed hard on her midsection.

Greagoir frowned and stood between his man and the mageling. "Control yourself; I will not have my men lashing out like that," he ordered firmly. He nodded to a few of the others standing nearby. "You four: take the girl to a holding cell. She'll face solitary confinement until she learns some control over her emotions."

Greagoir watched as his Templars took Surana away and sighed. He needed to meet with Irving, tell him they had a problem. Perhaps the old man could make the mageling see reason. He walked away, never letting his own emotions show. Concealing them beneath a thick layer of calm.

After he had left, Melina stood up and ran out of the library, tears streaming openly down her face, the picture left forgotten.

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Cullen hesitated at the doorway to Melina's dorm. He breathed in deeply, steeling himself mentally before cautiously entering the room cramped with bunk-beds. "Melli-ina?" he stutters nervously.

Melina was on her bed, face buried in her blanket. He could hear her heavy sobs and his heart twisted at the sound. He wished he could do something to ease her pain, something to stop the tears. Part of him was telling him he shouldn't be getting involved; she was a mage and he was to be a Templar. But when he looked at her, all he could see was how pretty she looked, and how sad.

Melina's breath caught in her throat and a feeling of terror overwhelmed her. What if they were here to take her, too? She didn't want to be in solitary! Her heartbeat started to race and her palms felt clammy. "Ser Cullen, I..." she began but fear trapped the rest of her words. She felt like she should stand but couldn't move, like she was stuck in a crushing prison.

Cullen shuffled awkwardly, sensing her fear. "I d-didn't mean to... I-I'm sorry.." he mumbled. He turned to leave, not wanting to upset the girl further. Maybe it had been foolish, hoping that a templar could comfort a mage.

Melina bit her lip, her thoughts racing, and stood up quickly. "Wait, don't go! What did you need, Ser Cullen?" She curtsied low, like her mother had taught her, and hoped the Templar recruit had not come to punish her. She said a prayer silently to the Maker that she would not end up in solitary and that Jalyn would be safe.

He blushed and bowed awkwardly in return. "I..." he starts, shuffling a little further into the room. "I came to...return this? I-I thought ma-maybe you might want it back?..." he explains, words trailing off at the end. He cursed himself for his stutter but something about a pretty girl had always caused him to become horribly tongue-tied and awkward. And Melina Amell was the prettiest girl he had seen, so he felt twice as nervous.

Her eyes widened, shocked, as she took in what he was holding. She let out a soft gasp and covered her mouth with one hand. "My picture! But, why?" she asked, tilting her head to the left. _Why would a Templar be so kind? Is he trying to trick me?_ she wondered.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled from foot to foot. "I-I saw you working on it...Y-You seemed to...work hard on it...and I-I...uh..."

"You watched me?" Melina asked, blushing bright red. "Because I'm dangerous, right?" She ducked her head, overwhelmed with her emotions. She felt sad, because she knew she would never experience the thrilling rush that was supposed to be love. Even if she did, that love would be denied to her because she was a mage. She was a danger, nothing more. In another life, perhaps things would have been different. But this was the life the Maker had given her. She had been born with more sin than most and must suffer the curse of magic. Even though she prayed every day, even though she confessed her sins and did her daily penance, she feared the Maker would reject her and she would wander the Void, lost and alone forever. She didn't want to be alone, whether in life or in death.

Cullen shook his head vehemently side-to-side when he heard her question. "No!" he exclaimed, his cheeks pink from blushing. "I mean...I watch you a lot...Er, um...y-you know because... Templar... and..." he trails off, at a loss for words. _Well done, Cullen, _he chastised himself. _Go on, mumble incoherently some more. I'm sure she'll be impressed._

Melina's brow crinkled, conflicting emotions pulling at her heart. "Because I'm just a mage. right? I- I don't want the drawing! You templars will... you'll use it against me! Jalyn was right! You all hate us!" she blurted out, tears streaming down her face. Normally, she could feel the emotions of those around her but Templars, and Templar recruits, were blank to her. So she couldn't tell that his feelings were currently in turmoil as she cried. She didn't know he was sincere in his intent and she didn't realize that the shy Templar recruit had a crush on her.

"No! I-I don't. I don't hate you at all Melli-lina!" He tries to reassure her but his words twisted and tripped over each other and he feared she'd find him a fool.

Melina looked up, eyes wide, a small bit of hope daring to shine through. "But I thought all the Templars hated us?"

Cullen shook his head. "T-Templars are...they protect the m-mages too, you know? I could...could never hate you."

She wrung her hands, nervous tension coursing through her. "You want to protect me, Ser Cullen? I mean, mages, not me!" _Oh, Maker, Melina! Don't make a fool of yourself! _she quickly admonished herself.

"Yes," he replied, standing a little straighter. "It's my duty." It was the only thing he was sure of, that he had a duty to protect the mages as well as everyone else.

"I- thank you, Ser Cullen!" She curtsied again, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. _Maker's breath but he is cute._ She was pretty sure she had never blushed this much in her whole life. And though it was most certainly a sin to be attracted to a Templar, Melina couldn't keep her heart from racing as she stood so near him.

And while she was thinking of him, he was thinking of her, as well. Their thoughts echoed one another, both believing their budding feelings to be a sin and yet, they couldn't help but feel them despite the danger.

Cullen bowed hastily, trying to push his sinful thoughts out of his mind. "Erm...Well...I-I should... go. M-Mel-lina?"

Melina blushed and hoped her face did not reveal her thoughts. She looked up and met his amber-coloured eyes. "Yes, Ser Cullen?"

"W-Would... would you draw m-me something? That is...if you wanted..."

Melina couldn't believe her ears! He wanted a drawing, from her? A mage? "I would love to! What would you like me to draw, Ser Cullen?"

"I...I always wanted a mabari," he replied, shyly.

Melina beamed up him, her smile bright on her rounded, wholesome face. "I remember what a mabari looks like! I'll draw you a strong, loyal mabari, Ser Cullen!"

Cullen smiled back at her, and her heart skipped a beat. "I b-better go...I-Ill see y-you soon," he replied, backing out of the room quickly. He bumped into the doorway and then hastily retreated as fast as his feet would carry him.


	7. Sleep to Dream

A/n: Warning, rape and abuse triggers.

Sleep to Dream

There was no light. There were no windows. The walls were painted a crisp white but blood-stained scratch marks were everywhere. There was no sound. No bed and no blankets. The only thing in the room was a small metal basin for mages to relieve themselves in. The room was tiny, barely enough space to walk around.

Jalyn couldn't tell how much time had passed. Every hour was the same as the one before it. She tried pacing, hoping to burn off energy so she could sleep. It hadn't helped. So she sat, in the corner, knees up and pressed against her chest. Her meals were irregular and infrequent.

She was sure she had been in there for a week, at least. Had they forgotten her? How long were they going to keep her here? She was afraid and lonely and angry. She'd spend hours pounding on the door, screaming until her voice went hoarse. She wanted _out._ She wanted to be with Melina and Jowan. She even missed Wynne's lectures, boring as they were. She just wanted to see daylight again, whatever the cost. She had prayed to the Maker for some kind of release but he had been silent and ignored her pleas.

Twice a guard had come in when she screamed. They'd beat her until she stopped screaming. It was brutal and painful but she was glad for the human contact. Afterwards, she would lie there, body aching, and she would sleep.

The dreams were terrible. She'd wander the Fade and the demons would hound her. They'd make promises of teaching her blood magic so she could escape, telling her it was the only way. But every time she felt herself grow weak, she'd picture Melina's face. Knowing how disappointed her friend would be, she held on and resisted. So long as Melina still needed her, she would not give in to temptation.

She heard the door to her cell creak open and she scampered to her feet. When they brought her food it was slipped under the door so maybe this was her chance at freedom? Had they come to finally release her?

A templar entered the room. She gasped in fear when she saw his face; it was the man who had kicked her during that fight with Greagoir. He smiled at her but it was not a comforting smile. He closed the door behind him and began walking towards her. He wasn't wearing any armor, just a pair of breeches and a tan undershirt.

He unbuckled his belt, and Jalyn screamed. "No one will come, no matter how loud you scream, knife-ear. It's time I taught you a lesson, little girl," he sneered, venom dripping from each word.

She tried to run but there was no escape. He grabbed her by the hair and she cried out in pain. His breath smelled of ale as he forced his lips on hers. She bit his lip and scratched his face, desperate to escape. He snarled and threw her down to the ground. She tried to crawl away. Her nails scraped across the ground as he dragged her to him. He flipped her over and smiled down at her: his crooked teeth were stained and disgusting.

He pulled up her robes and fumbled with his pants. Still, she struggled, lashing out and screaming. She called for Jowan, she called for Irving, she even tried to call out for the Knight-commander. She begged him to stop but he covered her mouth with his hand and kissed her neck. She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat as she felt him force himself inside of her. Tears sprung to her eyes as the pain and shame overwhelmed her.

After he had left, she laid there, broken inside. She felt like a piece of her had been torn apart. She felt dirty and used but there was no way to clean herself. She continued to cry, the tears cold against her cheeks.

Eventually, after a few hours had come and gone, she sat up. She relieved herself in the chamberpot and returned to her corner. She sat there, huddled in on herself, and sang. She sang the song her mother used to sing to her, a Dalish lullaby. Her voice was broken and tears still ran down her face. She wished desperately her mother was there, someone to hold her and comfort her. But Jalyn was alone. Just her and the demons, whispering from the Fade.

Not even sleep would heal this pain, because mages weren't allowed to dream.


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